I'll Be Watching Over You Still
by HaveringFool
Summary: The night air is a little chilly.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hi there, I have an explanation for certain things but since it'll be long, I've placed it at the bottom of the page.

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The night air is a little chilly.

Standing at the entrance and exit of the restaurant they just had dinner in, the Rizzoli-Isles family, take in the night air. The air is fresh and crisp to them; they are warm from their laughing and the glass of wine they each had. On they go, their coats; their arms into the sleeves as the other holds up the other's coat.

Jane Rizzoli, the tallest of the pair, turns to Maura to straighten her knitted cap. Jane makes sure that each strand of that soft golden brown hair stays neat and doesn't make Maura look disarrayed. "Maura, you're beautiful. No matter the state in which you are in but," Jane says to Maura as she continues her check, "You believe in looking professional, in looking good," Jane presses her smile against Maura's knitted cap.

Jane's mother, Angela, had made a matching set for them; a couple of knitted caps for the tightly-knitted couple, those were her exact words. Angela had burst into their home one day, to present to them, in Jane's opinion, ghastly headwear. Maura though thought nothing like that of them, of the headwear, of the knitted caps.

"Didn't someone once say that I always look like I'm ready for a photo shoot? I must keep up that reputation, I suppose?" Maura teases as she sends Jane a look. Jane dutifully lowers her head.

Maura Isles, though mostly in heels, still needs Jane to lower her head to help her out sometimes, especially for tasks like this. "The hats are nice Jane, and it's cold out tonight. It's a wonderful time to put them on," Jane's relatively large mane of unruly raven coloured curls, can get challenging to tuck neatly into a cap, but Maura does her meticulous best; with a career as a medical examiner, being patient and precise, seems in her nature anyway. "There," Maura's smile meets that of Jane's, "My detective's beautiful mind is warm and safe."

"Only you Maura, can put me in a knitted cap," Jane puts on a little pout, "I won't look very badass."

"Do you need to look very badass Jane?" Maura smiles and takes Jane's hand, "I think I would use the word, callipygian, to describe you."

Jane sends a raised eyebrow to her wife.

"That means, you have well-shaped buttocks Jane."

"Maura!" Jane's normally deep voice raises an octave higher with that comment. "There are people listening," Jane smiles, despite her blushing self.

"It's highly acceptable in most cultures and in most relationship guides, to comment on one's spouse's ass."

"Alright, alright Maura, keep the butt compliments to when we're alone at home and not while we're walking on the streets…" Jane kisses Maura's hand, "You have a lovely-shaped butt too Maura," Jane's voice is soft enough for only Maura to hear.

Maura smiles smugly to herself. "A cab, and then home to bed we go?" Maura gently swings their hands.

"Cab and then home to bed," Jane checks for vehicles before they begin to cross the road, "Maybe we can even-"

Jane's words are cut off by a blaring honk.  
Glaring headlights, out of nowhere, are all they see.

The night air is a little chilly.

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**A/N:** Hi there, thank you, for the time~  
This is a re-upload, with major edits.  
If you've been around since its inception, I do so apologize. For its constant change in style, and restructuring. It just annoyed me to no end, how the story sounded so, I had to fix it. It probably annoys you too, to have to read it again, if you do, after each a change. Apologies. As always, no one is under any obligation to read of course, but, I thank you ever so sincerely if you still wish to continue. Thank you, for the time=)  
**New a/n: **Prepare for change! For it has happened - "she" perspective now and, this time it will stick; it was in "you" perspective originally so, it'll stick.


	2. Chapter 2

"Doctor Isles," Maura had said as she had flashed her badge. She had offered her thanks as she had walked under the police tape.

She had smiled and followed after Maura. She had wondered for a moment then, why no one had asked her for her identification. She had figured then that they were probably too used to seeing them both together by now. She is Detective Jane Rizzoli after all. She had thought then.

She had followed after Maura, after her best friend, after her wife, smitten by her hair.

"Maura! Wait up," she had called out and jogged up to Maura; she had wanted to be closer.

"Hey Frost!" She had grinned at her partner, but had gotten no acknowledgement. She had looked at the body. It was not that grisly altogether. She had then wondered why he seemed so distracted. "Frost…girl problems?" She had teased. He had continued looking at the body, and had offered her nothing.

She had shrugged and squatted next to Maura, "So what's the cause of death Maura?" She had proceeded onto their usual banter; a shared moment of flirtation, even over corpses.

Maura had offered no reply.

"Maura?" She had turned to look at Maura.

Maura had been looking at the body. Maura had been focused, Maura had been at work. Maura had never been that focused to ignore her before though. She had thought for a moment that maybe she had angered Maura by accident; she knows better now.

"Maura?" She had waved her hand in front of Maura's face; it would have gotten to Maura, if she can indeed get to Maura.

Maura's face had offered no change in expression.

"Maura! Frost! Hello?"

No replies had been given.

This is getting too childish and far. She had thought. "Really? Maura? Frost?" She had been basically right up in their faces then and had thought that they were looking right through her; they were, they are, they do.

"Vanilla!"

Someone had called for her. Finally, she had thought.

"Rondo!" She had smiled. "Got something for me?" She had asked, and had noticed that Rondo had not looked his usual cheeky self. "Rondo?"

"Vanilla," Rondo had been looking at her.

She had felt like she was under a microscope, under scrutiny. She had crossed her arms across her chest and gave him an upturned eyebrow look of disdain. "What are you looking at Rondo?" She had almost glared.

"Of course, you still don't know."

"What do I not know here?" She had thrown her hands to the air. "Is this some prank you're all cooking up? Ignore Jane Rizzoli for the day. Childish buffoons." Her fuse had been so short that day.

"Vanilla, think. Where were you this morning?"

"Why is that any of your concern Rondo? I was with Maura if you have to know! We were-" She had stopped, she had thought.

She could not really remember waking up next to Maura.

Her head had started to hurt; she was drawing up blank images. She could not seem to think past Maura walking under the police tape.

"Is there more Vanilla?"

She had frowned and had bitten her lip, "I'm drawing up blanks. What's the dig here?"

Rondo had sighed. "Come with me, there's something I want you to see."

"Right...and I have a body to attend to." She had shaken her head, not liking games. "Besides, Maura will have to tell me about our vic eventually."

"Vanilla, this isn't some ploy and take it as, it's something that I've been entrusted to tell to, people like you."

"People like me?" She had rolled her eyes. "Rondo, if this is about that forty not being enough-"

"Vanilla. I'm not playing games here."

"Is this going to help me with the case or not?"

"There is no case until you know what you're dealing with Vanilla."

"Getting all philosophical now, are we?" She had rolled her eyes. "Fine, let me just inform Maura or Frost. Whoever would concede and respond that is," she had turned to walk away.

"Jane," Rondo had called; he had used her name and she had stopped. "Come now. This is important."

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	3. Chapter 3

She had followed that day, and now she is here almost every day.  
Sitting in an armchair, she is adjacent to a hospital bed.  
Sitting next to a hospital bed, on which, she is lying on the same very bed.

She looks up to see Maura walking in. She flashes Maura a smile.

Maura had gone to get a basin of water and face towels.

She watches Maura as she looks on at her, lying there, lying still.  
She watches Maura - that is what she does now. People like her.

She watches her; Jane Rizzoli watches Maura Isles.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	4. Chapter 4

She had entered the hospital room that day, had taken one look at the body on the hospital bed and clarity had hit her. That feeling of not knowing the answer to a test, to be scratching and clawing for one as one pits oneself against the ticking clock and to only then, at the very last moment, remember and that is it - one gets a word, a physical reminder and the rest, just falls into place. She had felt as such; she had felt too, sick.

She had felt dizzy, the room had started to spin, and she had felt like well, exactly like a car had hit her.

She had sunk onto the floor. She had leaned against the wall. She had been glad for a second that she didn't phase through walls. She had felt sick but a part of her must have had known all along, because her head had cleared, the blockage had disappeared. She had tried her voice.

"That car, the one that came at Maura and I, that came at us. I pushed her away and now she's left with Jane comatose Rizzoli?"

"People like you Vanilla. Stuck between the living and the dead, are called watchers or drifters. It depends."

"Why am I stuck? Why can't I just, hop back in there and be alive again?"

"I don't know about that Vanilla. It depends on your physical body state I suppose. Maybe the car didn't hit you so bad?"

"Badly," she had corrected Rondo; her correction was immediate and her smile was grim. Maura, how she must be feeling, she had thought as her smile had remained grim.

"That's one of the reasons as well."

"Maura?"

"Yes. You're holding onto her as much as she's holding onto you."

"Of course I'll be holding onto her, I'll never leave her."

"As she would do and wouldn't do, for you."

"So, no one can see me?"

Rondo had nodded.

"Really? Why can you?"

"I'm your C.I. Vanilla."

"My confidential informant?"

Rondo had laughed. "That, and I'm also your comatose informant."

"Really? They have jobs or positions like this now?"

"I'm not getting paid. Nor am I very real. I pop up when I have to Vanilla. If you haven't exactly, noticed it."

"Right, of course, that's why."

"You'll be okay? I leave once I've done my informing."

"Do I need to pay you for your nice tip this time?"

"Nope," Rondo had offered a shoulder pat, "It's just part of the service."

"Really? Thanks!" She had sighed.

* * *

Rondo had left and she had stayed.

With her body, she had stayed; with herself, she had stayed.

She had tried to of course, touch herself.

Her fingers had felt nothing.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	5. Chapter 5

She listens and she watches. She hovers and she hangs around.

She stays by her. She watches over her. She watches over Maura.

Maura does too the same, for her.

* * *

She watches as Maura wipes a cloth across her serene face, as she smooths out the wrinkles on her clothes and she watches, as the tears fall from Maura's eyes.

She reaches to wipe them away. The tears just fall anyway.

She watches and she listens. She listens as Maura tells her of her day.

She hopes that maybe tomorrow, she will be better, she will be awake, and a Clementine again. Maura's Clementine again, or her Jane; what matters is that she awakes. That's the thing with middle names, she thinks, they can sometimes change, and anything to just be with her again.

"Jane, I'll be here again tomorrow. Be better soon," Maura leans down to kiss the top of her head, "I miss you."

_I miss you too Maura. I do too._ She tells it to no one but herself.

Maura stands to go, and she follows.

_Wherever you go Maura, I'll follow you._ She tells it to no one but herself.

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**A/N:** Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	6. Chapter 6

Maura climbs into bed. It shifts beneath her.

She climbs into bed after Maura. Nothing happens. She is weightless.

Maura is leaning against the headboard, holding the framed picture she keeps by their bed. She changes them - the pictures. Tonight's the picture that they first took as a couple; they were sharing a bowl of ice cream together. The waitress had teased them and asked if they wanted the sugar-free concoction, because they would be diabetic if they had that bowl of ice cream along with the looks that they were sharing.

The waitress had offered to take a picture, they had blushed and they had nodded; they were smiling over a bowl of ice cream, their smiles matching.

"Jane?" Maura calls.

_I'm here_, she answers.

Maura doesn't look up from the framed picture.

Her words do not carry to Maura's ears. Sound does not travel in the realm of nothingness. Still, she speaks again. _Maura, I'm here_.

She watches as Maura's eyes start to water; her own tears have plopped onto the sheets before that of hers.

_I'm here Maura_. She leans closer to Maura and repeats the words, over and over.

Maura's eyes are closed, and a steady stream of tears flow. She's not being a copycat but hers are too - a river of tears.

She hates nights like this. Nights where Maura is hurting and she, can't seem to do anything.

"Jane?" Maura calls again.

She answers with tears; her vocal cords have shut down with pain.

Maura's fingers touch the side of her photographed face, "We need to go back to the ice cream place Jane."

She nods; a silent agreement, an unheard acknowledgement.

Maura places the framed picture back on the nightstand, and switches off the lights.

Darkness; apart from the moonlight, faint, hidden behind clouds, illuminates the room this night.

Maura touches the pillow on which she would be lying on, if she were awake, and next to her.

"Jane," Maura addresses the pillow, as if it's her, "Your attending doctor says that your vitals remain the same..."

Maura doesn't see it, but she's right there. She is right there, lying on the pillow, looking right at her, and listening.

Her fingers brush past Maura's. Nothing registers. _No change, that means I'm stable, that's good Maura_. She tells her. Or maybe it's bad, because I'm not waking. She thinks, but she does not say. Though neither spoken nor thought would have mattered; Maura can't hear her anyway.

"It's been two weeks Jane. Isn't it about time to wake up Jane?" Maura's voice is a broken whisper.

She watches as Maura's tears flow again.

She watches at how Maura is clutching at the comforter; at how it is soaking up her tears.

She reaches out to hold her. She wraps her phantom arms around her.

It can be done, it just cannot be felt; a summation of the situation. Maura's body is shaking in her arms with each whimper. She can see the shaking but she feels not the shaking.

She hears her pain, she feels the pain and still, it is comfort she can never offer. She has a love hate relationship with the comforter - an object taking her place. Even when she is right there, even when she is right there by Maura, she is not really there.

She tightens her embrace; she wraps her arms tightly around her.

They are touching; it looks as if they are touching, as if they are hugging, but nothing. Nothing. Maura never looks up and sees her holding her, Maura never feels her holding her.

She doesn't feel anything either.

She really hates nights like this.  
Nights with Maura crying, nights when they both are crying; the room fills with resounding echoes of Maura's crying.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	7. Chapter 7

Three cars - ironically - three cars drive by.  
Their headlights flashing so quickly by; offering momentary flashes of light in an otherwise dark room; hope in a moment of gloom.

"We should have had tipped the waitress much, much more Jane," Maura runs her fingers along the edge of the comforter, "Thanks to her, I have one more picture of you. But I miss you. I don't just want pictures, Jane."

_I miss you too Maura, and I hate being just a picture too,_ she answers and she presses her lips to Maura's temple, again, and again, and again.  
Maura's bound to feel it, she thinks. Maura doesn't.

"You're a messy eater, you know that Jane?"

Maura always waits a little; almost like Maura's giving her time to answer.

A part of her believes that Maura can feel her presence, that Maura can feel her there. That deep down inside, against all her science and logic, Maura feels her there. Despite it not registering, Maura must feel her; Maura must feel her, she believes.

She tries so hard to reach Maura.  
She blows at Maura's hair; not even a single strand moves, not even a little.

She is thankful for the pseudo conversations she gets to have with her though.  
_So you've told me a couple of times Maura_, she answers.

"We're going to try all the flavours there Jane, all of them."

She nods against Maura. _All of them, and then we'll have another go at them again Maura_.

"Then we'll have them with waffles. Every single flavour again, with waffles."

She nods.  
Yes, sometimes the night gets better.

She feels a little guilty, that Maura is comforting her when she can't offer the same to her.

"Then we'll go for yoga and you can't complain," Maura says to the ceiling.

She laughs. _Yes Maura, yoga, anything_. She looks up too at the ceiling.

Maura had filled it with glow-in-the-dark stars.  
We don't count sheep, we count stars. She takes comfort in the memory of how the stars came to be plastered across the ceiling - an indoor night-sky, their own night-sky.

"Goodnight Jane, I love you," Maura closes her eyes.

Another pair of headlights, illuminates the room; quick but not quick enough, to not reflect the tears of which Maura had shed.

She would be cuddling Maura right this moment, if she was physically here.  
Since the day of exchanged vows, falling asleep happens together - close, together.

Maura wraps the comforter tighter around herself, Maura knows it too; she thanks the comforter.

Her arms are still around Maura, and she is envious of a comforter. She takes in deep breaths; she tries to douse the fiery pain growing in her chest.

_Goodnight Maura, I love you too, _she whispers into Maura's ear. _Tomorrow, it'll be better. Tomorrow, it'll be better,_ she repeats, for Maura, for herself.

She repeats the words, hoping that by the thousandth time, it will truly be better; each whisper is a wish upon each ceiling star.

With each whisper, she plants a kiss on the back of Maura's shoulder.

Maura is wearing her t-shirt again.

She listens to Maura's breathing, waiting for it to steady. She listens to Maura breathing.

A steady breathing will tell her that Maura has fallen asleep.  
She listens to Maura's breathing, and she focuses on Maura's breathing. On Maura's breathing, on if Maura is asleep.

She is thankful that it is her, she is thankful that it is her. That it is her that doesn't sleep, that doesn't dream. If one of them had to be this intangible watcher, she will rather it be her. She doesn't want Maura hurting alone; at least, Maura has the living to hold.

She doesn't sleep, she can't sleep. Tonight she will sing to Maura instead. 'No matter what' by Boyzone, she sings. Hoping that maybe a line or two will reach Maura; hoping that a line or two or even three will reach Maura's ears. That Maura will know that no matter what, she loves her. That even if she will have to watch Maura forever, she still will. That she is holding on, and that she will come back to Maura. That it'll be better.

For now, she will just hold Maura and sing.

Hoping that Maura doesn't stir; Maura needs the sleep.

Maura had told her before, that she finds her baritone voice soothing.

She holds onto Maura as she sings, planting shoulder kisses in between.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	8. Chapter 8

She pictures herself twirling Maura's hair; her finger going through with the motion but her eyes are seeing that it is all just in her imagination.

She just keeps trying to twirl Maura's hair.

She tells herself that each try, each moment, something for certain will happen.

She just keeps twirling Maura's hair; feeding herself delusions. Might as well, she does not eat.

The Sun is rising.  
She sees that the sunlight is streaming in.  
Through the curtains, through the blinds, rays of sunlight are about to touch Maura's eyes.

Maura frowns a little; the light is upon Maura's eyes.

She tries to block it with her hand; the key word here is 'try'; she tries.

Maura's nose cringes a little. Maura bemoans a little. Maura does not like the light.

She smiles with sadness in her eyes.

She lowers her lips onto Maura's; she misses waking Maura up with kisses.

She rolls over to Maura's side.

She tries. She will use her body to shield Maura from the sunlight. She will try. She wants Maura to sleep; in sleep, there is some semblance of peace.  
Maura's forehead doesn't crease.

Maura's eyes flutter open. Lost and searching.

She is right there, looking; waiting, and hoping. Nope, Maura doesn't see.

Her throat is a little hoarse from singing, from wishing, but she still tells Maura that, _It's a lovely morning my beautiful Maura, my beautiful Dorothea. Good morning_.

Maura doesn't smile, Maura doesn't turn.  
There's not a hint of her words reaching Maura's ears.

Maura is just looking at the ceiling.

She thinks that maybe Maura is still dreaming. That maybe this too is all just a bad dream. Wake Rizzoli, wake. She tells herself because she really wants to be Maura's Clementine again; not comatose, not stuck in between.

It occurs to her then, how she had taken morning greetings for granted; so common place, so simple and yet, so wonderful.

She is not bitter that Maura does not hear her; she is hurting inside that Maura does not know that she still has her, that she is still right here. She wants to tell Maura that tomorrow is here, that the Sun is shining and maybe, to just hope with me Maura, maybe, today it'll be better.

She lies back with Maura.

The both of them lying on their backs, as they look at the ceiling covered with stars; her and Maura, together, looking at the ceiling of stars.

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**A/N:** Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	9. Chapter 9

It is the best feeling, just lying there with the one you love. She thinks. Yet she feels greedy, because she wants to add: just lying there with the one you love and being able to tell her, to hold her, to have her know that you are here. Her phantom fingers find Maura's.

She sees that they are touching. That, she thinks comfortingly, is better than nothing.

Maura is watching the stars on the ceiling, she is watching the stars on the ceiling, and the stars are just watching them both from the ceiling.

They have offered no wish come true, no chance for me to go yes Maura, I'm awake and how I've missed you. She says to herself. If I'm still lying here next to you Maura, touching but not feeling, then they have offered us nothing. She is angry for a moment. She is more sunken than pissed though by the next.

There is a lot of silence this morning. Even the birds are not chirping.

Still she will hope.

Maura had once said to her that the researchers at the University of Pittsburgh have proven that optimistic people live longer. She wants to live longer.  
She will be hopeful, be optimistic, and she will awake to hold Maura; she will awake to hold Maura, close to her.

If the birds don't start chirping, I'll just start singing. She thinks. She knows songs of love, she knows songs of hope. She will just keep singing. One day her voice will carry the notes of hope and love to Maura; hope and love will reach her, hope and love will reach Maura.

She wants soothing tunes to surround Maura, to provide Maura with the comfort that she cannot provide Maura.

The darn birds better start chirping. She angrily thinks.

She knows that Maura is not on call this morning. She knows that her mother will be coming. Bless that woman for her mothering. She reminds herself to thank her mother; another note onto the ever-growing list of typical things one forgets to be thankful for, until one has lost them or are hovering between living and death.

She reminds herself to thank her mother, for loving Maura, for taking care of Maura. She wants to thank her mother, for keeping Maura from being alone. Even though she knows how loneliness seeps in when it is moonlight streaming in.

She blinks back tears. She does not want to be blurry-eyed today.  
She wants it all to be clear; it is a whole day with Maura, and she does not want to miss a thing.

She watches Maura, looking at the ceiling. She wonders what Maura is thinking.

If she rolls back onto their allocated sides, with Maura on the left and her on the right, it will just be back to that night - with a mattress, two glasses of wine, and that moment when she had told Maura, how she is her fantasy, how she is her reality.

She wonders if Maura is thinking it too. _You're still my reality Maura_, she tells Maura in a voice, only she herself can hear. _We are going to another game at Fenway when I wake_, she tells Maura, _and we are going on many, many more dates._

She looks to Maura. Searching, waiting, for any sign of movement, of indication, of yes Jane, of course, we'll go on many more dates.  
Apart from eye blinks, Maura offers nothing.

Maura is still looking at the stars, at the ceiling. She is getting very envious of inanimate things.

* * *

**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	10. Chapter 10

"I like science," Maura's voice finally breaks the silence, "I like stars, how they're held together by their own gravity. They remind me of you Jane. So independent, so bright; you're my guiding star. There are eight-hundred and twenty five of them up there on the ceiling. They glow and they are your nightlights, our nightlights; keeping you safe. I like science, but I love you Jane. I've wished on all eight-hundred and twenty-five of them, and they better come true. I don't want hypothesis, I don't want to wait for test results to come in. When I go to the hospital later Jane, you better be awake. Please be awake." Maura's voice breaks.

Maura closes her eyes and tears flow, soaking her pillow.

Her chest aches, her heart breaks. Tears well her eyes and there goes her goal of not being blurry-eyed.

Most mornings after a night like last, Maura hardens and Maura demands. Maura demands that she fulfils what she cannot fulfil.  
She tries though; she tries harder and harder each day; she tries.

She prays for her mother to hurry on her way. To take Maura away from this loneliness, this lonely place; to mother away the heartache, to make her bunny pancakes. She tries, she tries, and she is starting to hate the word try.

She traces the words 'Maura I'm right here' along Maura's arm. In cursive, in block writings; she traces the words along Maura's arm.

She wonders if Maura feels the slight tickle, the slight tingle that she remembers to come along with tracing her arm.  
It seems so long ago, the last word spelling on the canvas that is their skin that had her and Maura reduced to giggles and happy tears.

She traces the words 'I love you', over, and over. Each letter a hopeful figurative cloak of comfort, as her aching heart listens to Maura's tearful sobs growing louder and louder. She traces 'I love you Maura, I'm here', over and over.

She does not know what is more painful - watching tear drops of Maura's disappear into the pillow or that the salty drops of her own do not make connection with the real world. Is it more painful to watch Maura cry, or to know that Maura's tears will not stop until her own can be absorbed.

She doesn't know the answer, and there is still no chirping; her hopes of it'll be better, shrinking and shrinking.

It doesn't disappear though, it won't disappear. She will stay hopeful, she will stay optimistic, and she will awake, for Maura.

She will awake for Maura. She will always awake for Maura.

_I'll never leave you Maura, I'm right here_. A pained whisper of hers against Maura's arm.

She closes her eyes and imagines, her own hand running through Maura's hair, and her own thumb, brushing away Maura's tears.

* * *

**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	11. Chapter 11

She listens.

She listens as Maura's sobs grow softer, with deeper breaths in between.

She will forgo the sense of sight just for a moment, to listen.

She listens.

She listens as each inhale sounds less like a sniffle.  
She listens as each exhale becomes less of a puff.  
She listens as each inhale becomes less ragged, slower.  
She listens as each exhale sounds less like a huff.

She listens as Maura's breathing goes steady.

In, out, in, out; she listens as Maura breathes.

She listens to Maura falling steadily asleep.

She hates that Maura has cried herself to sleep.  
That Maura is hurting, that Maura had hurt so much to have worn herself out, from crying.  
She hates that Maura has cried herself to sleep.

Yet, she loves that Maura is asleep.

Maura has nightmares, Maura has dreams.  
But asleep, Maura stops crying for a little bit.

She has such numerous mixed thoughts and feelings.

She is envious, she is jealous.  
She is envious of the comforter, of the duvet.  
She is jealous too, because they are taking her place.

She is concerned, as she is worried.  
She worries, she is afraid.

She fears that she will not wake.

She is delusional; she is hopeful; she believes that she will wake.

She will, because she has to.

Maura is waiting for her to too.

She has such numerous mixed thoughts and feelings.  
Though there is a constant, there is an absolute.  
There is one thing she will hold true, in which she will believe with all that she is.

That she will hold on, that she will go where Maura goes, that she will watch over Maura.  
This is the absolute.

She hears the rustling of sheets.

She opens her eyes to catch Maura turning on her side; Maura is now facing her pillow.  
She climbs back over to return to her side, to lie back on her own pillow.

She wants to face Maura.  
She wants to believe that when Maura opens her eyes, the first person she will see, is her - is Jane Rizzoli.

She lies on her side and she watches Maura.

She watches and she listens, as Maura sleeps.

* * *

**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	12. Chapter 12

The morning light does wonders; she gets to watch a wonder.

Maura's brows are relaxed and unfurrowed; Maura's face, adorned with a mask of serenity, of sleep.

Maura's cheeks though, her rosy cheeks are blemished with tracts of tears.  
She brushes her thumb across the surface of Maura's skin, wiping away the stain of pain. Almost, she thinks.

Maura turns deeper into the pillow and her glistening hair tousles a little, a lock of it falls across her face. Her fingers reach out to tuck the lock behind Maura's ears.

She tells herself that maybe that lock is meant to be left tickling Maura's face; she looks away.  
She sees then Maura's upturned palm - Maura's fingers, touching the edge of the cover of her pillow case.

She offers nothing but the truth - that it looks so empty, it looks as if it's waiting to be held. Waiting to be held by me, she whispers it to herself.

_Maura, you make my mornings beautiful and my days purposeful, I'll come back to you. Please don't shed your precious tears. I can't bear it when you do. I'm right here_, she whispers into Maura's palm.

Maura stirs a little.

She feels hopeful; maybe her breath had tickled her.  
She traces five letters onto Maura's palm, and she asks, if Maura remembers.

* * *

She had her head on Maura's abdomen, listening to the quiet of digestion. Maura was reading an article and she had been tracing words on Maura's skin, completing words with Maura's navel - that shaped like a letter 'o' belly button.

"Jane, that's distracting," Maura had laugh and swatted at her pointer, "What are you even accomplishing?"

"I'm taking down notes, writing."

"Wouldn't jotting them down on paper be more productive?"

"Paper's not as…" She had slid her finger up Maura's side and whispered, "Nice to touch."

Maura had shivered, a little.

"Besides, I'm saving paper and sending a message, all at the same time. It's very eco-friendly and efficient Maura."

Maura had placed aside her journal, had stopped reading her article and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "What's the message Jane?"

"Lie back and stay still," she had winked - so full of herself and so full of cheeky wit, "It's just three words."

Maura had smiled and had lain back down. She had written a letter.

"I."

She had nodded. Next, she had traced a word.

"You."

She had smiled and carried on - 'L', 'V', 'E'; each letter, a slow deliberate tickle.

Maura had laughed and asked, "Is there a letter missing Jane?"

"Not exactly," she had shaken her head and crawled up to meet Maura's lips, "All I need is right there, right here," she had traced her finger around Maura's navel, "I can't spell love without you Maura."

Maura had looked at her, for a moment, offering nothing but a smile.

"I love you too," Maura had traced her eyes and pressed her lips against her lids, "I love you, Jane."

She had smiled and snuggled into Maura's embrace; with Maura's arm snaked across her waist, she had said, "I heard a song today."

"We ride to work with the radio on everyday Jane," Maura had said as a matter of fact, as Maura's fingers combed through her hair.

"That's different Maura. Anyway, I had the radio on, blasting it almost in the bullpen today, to cover up the drone of winnie-you-know-who-pooh-"

"Sister Winifred?"

"Yes Maura, and this song came on. It reminded me of you."

"What's it called?"

She had taken Maura's palm and held it in her hands. She had traced five letters and asked for Maura to guess.

"W, I, S, Y, S? That's not a lot to go on even if I do guess Jane."

"When I see you smile, Maura," she had kissed Maura's palm, "That song just represents how much your smile means to me. It's by Bad English, we should listen to it."

"So now you're Bad English?" Maura had quipped.

"Well, I am Italian Maura, that makes me a bad English, doesn't it?"

Maura had laughed, "You make me smile Jane, and I know some things that you're not bad at…" Maura had whispered into her ear, sending tingling sensations, frazzling all of her nerves.

"When you smile Maura, I can do anything," she had kissed each word along Maura's neck.

* * *

She watches as Maura's smile - dreamy and slow - come to life.

"When you see me smile," Maura mumbles against the pillow; Maura answers. Her heart palpitates against her chest. Maura must have heard her.

_Tomorrow is here Maura, it is better. I know it is_. She tells Maura as she watches how Maura's smile mirrors hers - small but hopeful. _It is better Maura, soon_. She assures Maura with a kiss to her palm.

Maura's eyelids flutter back; her eyes are wide, and seeing. She holds her breath.

Maura does not see her but she sees the return of Maura's dimples.

"I'll smile for you Jane, and you can do anything," Maura reaches for the framed picture and she kisses her photographed face, "You'll awake soon. I know it to be true. I'll smile for you, for us, till you do, and you're right here," Maura presses her hand against her chest, against her heart, and she thinks that maybe, Maura can feel her hand against hers too.

She tightens her hold. Maura's eyes are closed. She is wishful.

Tomorrow is here. Today is better. She tells herself, she has made progress - she has gotten through to Maura.

She kisses Maura's temple and a chirp, a tweet, reaches Maura and her. The morning isn't so quiet, so full of pain any more. She smiles.

It is morning, the Sun is shining, and hope is streaming in. Radiant and full of warmth; even the sunlight's keeping Maura comforted, keeping her warm. It is better, she nods.

She smiles, full of hope. Maura does too.

* * *

**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~  
Hmm. I'm still on hiatus of sorts so, this story pauses here. Apologies.  
Thank you, for the time=)  
**New A/N: **Yes, I should stop editing and update. Yikes. Apologies.


	13. Chapter 13

She has made progress, she has gotten through to Maura. She repeats her prized thought to herself.

Maura had been the one struggling for progress, not too many months ago. She thinks as she wraps her phantom fingers tighter around Maura's hand.

* * *

"We have to try Jane, we have to try," Maura had whispered soothingly as her hand had run through the curls in her hair.

"We have to try Jane," Maura had held her closer to her, "We have to try."

"Tell me what's on your beautiful mind?" Maura had asked, as her lips had kissed her palms - her scars.

She had stayed silent and unresponsive.  
She had awoken from a bad dream with Maura in her arms.

She had cried with Maura in her arms.

She had thought then that: this wasn't a dream.

She had stayed silent and unresponsive.  
She had held Maura in her arms as her own tears had laced Maura's hair.

"I'm here Jane, I'm here," Maura had promised as she kissed her chest.

"I'm here," Maura had her head on her shoulder now, but her hand had remained firm and steady on her chest, "Tell me Jane. You can tell me anything Jane."

She had cried.

She hadn't cried since that day, that night, that time.

She had cried with Maura in her arms.

Like that day, that night, that time.

"I'll never leave you Maura," she had spoken - the first sentence in a long time since, that day, that night, that time.

"I'll never leave you Maura," she had whimpered in Maura's arms.

"I'm sorry about that day, that night, that time," she had broken down and cried, "I'm sorry Maura."

* * *

_You had the ceiling filled with stars after that._ She traces her thumb across the back of Maura's hand. Nothing.

_You told me that I never have to wake up alone, in the dark, ever again. That the stars, will be my nightlights, our nightlights. Keeping me safe, giving me hope, keeping me safe. _She kisses Maura's smile. _Because when I am, you are too. And I'll wake up for you Maura. I'll never leave you. _

She watches as Maura leaves the bed.

"I'll smile for you, for us, till you do Jane. I will," Maura kisses the framed picture of them before she places it back on the nightstand.

_I will too_. She lies back and watches the ceiling. _When you smile Maura, I can do anything. _

The ceiling with the glow-in-the-dark stars. An imitation of the night sky. A replica of her view that day, that night, that time.  
When the ground beneath them had soaked up Maura's blood, when the trees had stood idly by, offering needless shade as Maura had bled closer to death.

Maura had been bleeding in her arms, with a cut open leg, due to her doing. Maura could have died in her arms that day, that night, that time; and she had only cried with Maura in her arms.

_It's progress Jane, it's progress - them as your nightlights._ She repeated the words Maura had told her the day the glow-in-the-dark stars became ceiling fixtures.

It's progress, and tomorrow is better. Maura had assured as she held her tight. You're here. Jane, you're here. Maura had kissed her temple. You don't have to be sorry Jane. Maura had kissed her temple. You're here.

The researchers at the University of Pittsburgh have proven that optimistic people live longer. Maura had said. I have your back Jane. Maura had held her hand. I have your back, and we're here. Maura had held her as sleep had ceased to evade her.

She lies and watches the ceiling, as she listens to the flow of water coming from the shower.  
Maura's preparing to go to her.  
When she's right there, right here, on the bed waiting for her. When she's right there too - on a hospital bed, waiting for her. She tries to keep the prized thought in her mind; there will be no blurry eyes today.

_I'll wake Maura, I will. I'll never leave you. _She promises.

_It's progress. Tomorrow is here Maura. _She smiles at the ceiling stars_. Thank you._

* * *

**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~  
An update!~ Hope it's alright.  
**Personal note:** Might you...also maybe, consider the message I had left on my profile? It touches on future fanfics - which might be of interest to you if you follow the other fanfics I have written.  
Thank you, for the time=)


	14. That chapter

Like an answer, Maura heads back into the room.

As if by magic, the stars on the ceiling begin to move.

Jane sits upright as Maura enters back into the room - two beings in a room, with celestial bodies up above.

On the ceiling they await, and look down upon them two.

Slowly but surely, the stars begin to move.

And the words they formed are simply: Happy April Fools!

* * *

**A/N:** I had to. Happy April Fools from HaveringFool!=)  
Do disregard this chapter in terms of the story progression.


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N: **It's a legitimate update - three chapters - but, you should probably not read them till there's a next round of update. Thank you, for the time.

* * *

The phone on the dresser vibrates - it's Maura's

Hers had long been crushed to bits, how surprising, she comments to herself as she hops out of bed to look at the caller ID. It better not be a case, she thinks.

It's the hospital.

The almost grin she has on falls away. She looks at Maura's phone, vibrating on the dresser.

She listens to the sound of running water; Maura's still in the shower.

She stares at Maura's phone - a call from the hospital, most probably something about her.

She stares at the phone and wills for the caller to hang up - Maura's smiling again.

She sighs.

The room is now silent, except for the sound of a vibrating mobile on a dresser.

She wills for the caller to hang up; Maura's smiling again.

The phone stops.

The shower starts.

The phone starts.

The shower stops.

Maura is wrapped up in a towel and standing next to the dresser.

Maybe I'm awake, she decides.

But then why am I here. She wonders to herself.

Maybe I'm awake and the hospital's calling to inform my wife. She concludes.

She sends an encouraging smile as Maura places the phone to her ear.

Those droplets are from the shower, she tells herself.

"Thank you for keeping me informed, I'll be coming in before noon," Maura hangs up.

The sound of running water is all she wishes to hear, but it isn't.

There is sniffling too, and an anguished cry in between the sound of jet sprays. Maura's crying in the shower, and she is pressed up against the bathroom door, listening.

_Maura?_

_I'm here._


	16. Chapter 15

"Tell me Rondo. Tell me," she had threatened.

Maura has been crying every night since she had known, since she had started to follow. Maura has been crying every night since, she had begun watching.

"Tell me Rondo, tell me. Tell me how to wake. Tell me how to be with her again," she had Rondo slammed against a wall.

Maura would visit in the day, during lunch breaks, and head back to work, as if nothing mattered or bothered.

Maura has been crying, every night since, and she had only followed wherever Maura had gone, wherever Maura could possibly go - work, hospital, and home.

"Tell me Rondo, please," she had fistfuls of Rondo's shirt, and him against a wall. He always had answers, he's her CI. He has answers, and she needed them. She needed the how to awake, the how to make Maura stop crying.

She needed to be able to tell Maura that she's never leaving, that she's here, that she loves her, and that she's sorry.

She needs to tell Maura that she loves her, and that she's sorry.

"Tell me Rondo, please," she had let him go and had fallen to her knees.

They were at dinner, a celebratory dinner - the night the car came.

She had finally done it – told Maura about things, about her feelings, and her fears.

She had finally managed it - to speak the words she feared more than anything.

She had progressed, and Maura said dinner - anything she wanted - as a celebration.

She had finally gotten back to the stage where holding Maura close to her every night in their bed, stopped being just a way to make sure that Maura's breathing and safe, that Maura's alive and that she hasn't lost her yet.

She had finally made Maura happy again, with her progress, with her own smile.

She had finally made Maura smile again, and now there Maura is, burying herself in work - reports, research papers - and pretending as if she's going to be okay, that she isn't lying on a hospital bed.

* * *

"Doctor Isles? The results are in," Susie had said.

"Is Detective Rizzoli going to be okay?" Susie had added, had asked.

"Definitely." Maura had answered.

"Jane's fine. Her vitals are great." Maura had lied - the doctors had said she was still critical that day.

* * *

Maura would rather hives, would rather lie, than to have to accept that she wasn't okay.

Maura had concealed it, all too deftly - evidence of her nights' tearful moments.

With make-up, with a professional smile; Maura had concealed it all.

She had watched as her own wife carried on to work, seemingly unbothered. She had watched as her own mother struggled and even chided her wife for being able to go back to work, as if nothing happened.

She had wanted to wrangle and strangle, all the idiots who had dared, to hiss 'Queen of the dead's here' at her wife's way whenever she passed anyone at work.

She had watched as her own partners, shunned the medical examiner's office and would only liaise with Susie who stood firm by her hero, by Maura.

She had watched as Maura smiled when she has to, say her thanks when she needs to, and she had watched, as Maura drove home from work as tears clouded her eyes.

She had watched it all.

"There must be something I can do Rondo. Tell me. Tell me what I can do."

Her mother hadn't understood then, her mother hadn't known what she had known.

She knew, of course she knows. Of course she knows different, of course she knows that Maura would go back to work.

Maura hid in her work.

Maura hid in her work. Maura found peace, security, and stability in her work. Maura had always hid in her work, something she herself used to always do.

Maura spoke for the dead. Maura stood for the dead, and Maura said for the dead what they could no longer say.

Maura would rather dissect a dozen cadavers than to have to get used to being alone again, to face the living again.

Maura would hide in her work, and she would hide in hers.

Until her, until Maura, until and since, they had each other.

Maura would have had her, and she would have had Maura.

Until that day, that night, that time, and she had hid in herself, had given Maura the silent treatment; because work mattered less than Maura, and work she could lose, but not ever Maura.

And if she hadn't hid in herself, Maura wouldn't have had to hide in her work.

"Tell me Rondo, tell me what I can do."

She needs to tell Maura that she's sorry, and that she loves her still.

"Vanilla," Rondo had whispered.

"This fell out of your pocket," Rondo had showed her the token she had always kept by her side, and she had looked at it, not feeling inclined to even touch what she cannot keep, "I'll show it to her when the time is right vanilla. That's all you can do." Rondo had started to go.

She had sat down on the sidewalk, overlooking where the accident had occurred.

"Maura has a similar token," she had looked up and away from her scarred palms, and straight ahead, at the road that was no longer covered with her blood, "My mother found it once in the dryer." She had smiled. Their only secret kept from each other – a reminder of the other.

"I know vanilla, I know," Rondo had turned around, "As she would do, and wouldn't do for you."

Rondo had sighed.

"I sang to her, I watched over her, and that's all I knew that I could do," Rondo had answered.

Rondo had left, and she had sat a little while longer, before following behind Maura, before watching over Maura, like what people like her can only do.


	17. Chapter 16

The door won't give, and she had tried everything - ramming herself against it, kicking it, turning, pulling, and yelling at the door, at the door knob. She doesn't hurt, she doesn't feel anything; the door stays in between.

She can't get in, and Maura's crying.

She can't get in, and Maura's crying.

She shuts her eyes, and pounds so adamantly against the bathroom door.

_Let me in._

_Maura, let me in._

She pounds and she pleads.

_Maura, let me in._

_I'm here, Maura, I'm here._

She pleads and she pounds, to Maura's crying.

_I'm here. I'm here. I'm here_. She spits each word out.

_I'm here. I'm here. I'm here!_ She stands right up.

_I'm here, I'm here, I'm here. Here!_ She challenges the ceiling stars.

_I'm here._

She weeps against the bathroom door.

_I'm here._

She repeats and hopes for her to actually be here, and not at the hospital.

_I'm here._

She says again.

_Maura?_

_I'm sorry that I'm here._

She listens to the sound of running water, the shower washing away Maura's tears - because she's here.


End file.
